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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387148">The chains that freed us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsCaulfield/pseuds/angelsnuffbox'>angelsnuffbox (MrsCaulfield)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Bastille smut, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Clothed Sex, Consensual Sex, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), M/M, Porn with Feelings, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Time Travel Elements, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex, another smutfic twitter bullied me into writing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:22:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsCaulfield/pseuds/angelsnuffbox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Once upon a time, in a dark prison cell of the Bastille, Aziraphale promised that he would always find his way back to Crowley."<br/> <br/>In which Crowley accidentally discovers that not only can he stop time, he can also reverse it.</p><p>*</p><p>Also known as: I needed an excuse to write Manbun Crowley and Bastille Aziraphale flirting and having frantic sex and it turned out like this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Top Crowley Library</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The chains that freed us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Skskskdjf please don't try to apply logic to this because I usually shy away from writing magical elements (laughs darkly at my array of basic human AUs) and I just really need to write gratuitous smut of Manbun Crowley and Bastille Aziraphale.</p><p>And thanks so much to my twitter friends and Service Manager Crowley gc for being a great sounding board while I was piecing together this fic.</p><p>Sending love &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What happens if it doesn't work?"</p><p>Aziraphale posed this question in all seriousness, and perhaps Crowley could have responded to it more seriously as well. But it's an idea he had tried to push back from his mind for so long, entertained it only during one solitary drunken night, slung over the throne in his flat. He'd never tried to consider it ever again.</p><p>As such, he found himself speaking with more frankness.</p><p>"Then he comes into his full power. The Horsemen will assemble, and Armageddon will begin."</p><p>Aziraphale did not look amused. Crowley took this moment to get a good look at the angel's expression. Lines of worry etched deep on his face, and he fidgeted on the bus seat more than usual.</p><p>"I have had a word with Head Office," said Aziraphale, resolutely avoiding Crowley's gaze. "And they told me that there is no need to track down the Antichrist."</p><p>This wasn't news to Crowley at all. Both sides wanted their war, no matter the cost.</p><p>"Who cares what the wank wings think?" The bus slowed to their stop and Crowley stood up from his seat, walking down the aisle, hands shoved in his denim pockets, with Aziraphale in tow. "We have our own plan for stopping the war. We've done everything we could. All we can do now is wait until the kid's eleventh birthday."</p><p>"How are you being so calm about this?"</p><p>Crowley stepped off the bus, spinning around to look back at the angel with an oddly tight expression behind his orange-rimmed sunglasses.</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>Aziraphale got off the bus as well, and with a nervous look at their surroundings (there was no one to spot them, Crowley had already checked), he sighed. </p><p>"Why aren't you worried at all about what's going to happen if it all goes... well, pear-shaped?" </p><p>It's times like these that Aziraphale, though immortal, seemed to look far older than he actually was. He'd been on edge ever since the delivery of the Antichrist. Each meeting between them, even the ones under the guises of a nanny and a gardener, had been tense all throughout.</p><p>"Aziraphale..."</p><p>"Years of-of hard work, Crowley! All ruined!" Aziraphale fixed him with a stern look. "We have to be open to the possibility of being called back to our celestial stations. We'll be fighting in the war."</p><p>This struck a nerve with Crowley. "Look, I wasn't gonna tell you this now, but I've come up with a plan. And it's crazy, but it's crazy enough that it just might work."</p><p>"What on earth are you on about?"</p><p>"I'm not fighting in any war, Aziraphale. And on no account will I be fighting you."</p><p>Aziraphale paused for a moment, breathing heavily. "We don't exactly have a choice on the matter," he said, sounding as though there was something blocking the passageway of his throat.</p><p>"Alpha Centauri," Crowley blurted out, feeling an ache in his chest that he didn't allow himself to normally feel. "We can run away together. I can-I can take you there. No one will find us."</p><p>Instead of the overwhelming flood of relief, Aziraphale only looked even more confused.</p><p>"You can't be serious, Crowley. We can't leave."</p><p>"We can. I know my way around the galaxies."</p><p>"This is ridiculous."</p><p>"Angel, I'm not going to fight with you. We agreed, we're on our side."</p><p>Aziraphale let out a grim chuckle, his eyes sad and jaded, weighed down by centuries of stress and evasion.</p><p>"I think, Crowley, now that the world is ending, we can admit that the idea of <em> our side </em> has been nothing but a fantasy."</p><p>Crowley felt his nonbeating heart crumble in his chest, crashing into his nonbreathing lungs. "You don't mean that."</p><p>Aziraphale didn't soften, and judging by his look he had already resigned himself to defeat long before the battle had fully begun.</p><p>"You belong to Hell and I to Heaven," he declared, matter-of-factly, leaving absolutely no room for retort. "The idea that it could be any other way... it was fun for a while, but I think we need to accept that now."</p><p>"So, what you're saying is, we'll go our separate ways? So much for six thousand years of friendship, was nice knowing you, we've had good times, but I'm a holy angel of the fucking Lord while you are only a disgusting demon, nothing more - "</p><p>"Crowley - "</p><p>"- And it's been a pleasure doing business with you, but I've to go back to my holiness now, ta."</p><p>Aziraphale's hands clenched into fists over his stomach, his lips pursed tight. "Well I wouldn't put it with such crassness of manner, but ultimately, yes. That is what I'm saying."</p><p>And just like that, Crowley's entire universe went roaring to life. There was so much movement around him. So much noise. He needed... he needed... He didn't know what he needed exactly, but he couldn't stand to look at Aziraphale any longer.</p><p>Instead, he let out a sardonic grin. "Fine. Have a nice doomsday."</p><p>He didn't wait for Aziraphale to try to stop him. He marched off, down the pavement with absolutely no sense of direction. What the Heaven was he to do with himself now, without Aziraphale to help him stop Armageddon from happening?</p><p>The people of London milled about, blissfully unaware of the fate to befall them in only less than a decade from now. There was so much life and activity. So much vibrance and variety. Earth offered them the lives they could never have lived in either Heaven or Hell. How could Aziraphale just give all of that up?</p><p>There was so much noise. A bus rushed past him, narrowly avoiding another vehicle on the street, and a noise barrage of horns rammed into his ears. With a groaning scream, he snapped his fingers, wanting it all to stop and give him just a moment to breathe properly.</p><p>And come to a stop the world did.</p><p>For a couple of seconds, everything froze around him, and it was blissfully silent.</p><p>Crowley took a look around and inhaled sharply.</p><p>The next moment, the world began to move again, and he was standing in front of Aziraphale, fretting with his hands wringing anxiously over his waistcoat.</p><p>"You can't be serious, Crowley. We can't leave."</p><p>Crowley took in the familiar sight, the same rush of his surroundings, and the exact same positioning he'd seen on Aziraphale. Frantically, he looked around. What the...</p><p>He had only wanted a moment to stop time. But for some reason, he'd managed to turn it back instead?</p><p>Crowley gulped audibly.</p><p>That was new.</p><p>"There isn't anywhere to go.”</p><p>He took a step towards Aziraphale, just a little closer. Not enough to touch him. His hands came up in a gesture of surrender.</p><p>"Look. I think you need to take a break," he said gently. "You've had a rough day and you aren't thinking clearly. How about we call it a day, go to our respective homes, and talk about this when you're more relaxed?"</p><p>To his credit, Aziraphale didn't instantly lash out this time. Still, the tightness in his features remained. For the life of him, Crowley could not even decipher his expression. The result of decades of practiced restraint. </p><p>Restraint especially when it came to Crowley.</p><p>"Alright," quipped Aziraphale, already turning his back on him. "And hopefully you will take this time to realise how utterly ridiculous your Alpha Centauri idea is. Good day, serpent."</p><p>This time, it was Aziraphale who walked away from him and soon disappeared from view.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Back in Mayfair, Crowley padded around his bedroom on bare feet, muttering angrily to himself. He'd had quite a few drinks by now and was on the brink of collapse from frustration. Even though he'd unwittingly undone it, he couldn't believe that there had been a part of Aziraphale that was willing to end their friendship just like that. Sure, the stakes have never been higher, but that wasn't the Aziraphale that Crowley knew. That was the Aziraphale that had been prodded and molded by the wank wings. Aziraphale was better than all of them. Braver and stronger, more radiant. If he could only see that for himself, the same way Crowley saw him, he just knew Aziraphale would be willing to take down the impending apocalypse with no hesitation.</p><p>It was difficult to believe that this was the same Aziraphale who had covered thousands of temptations on his behalf. The same Aziraphale who gave away his flaming sword and lied to God themself, not out of some Ineffable plan, but purely out of the goodness of his heart. His compassion for humanity. Over the years, Aziraphale had been in a never-ending war over so many things that he thought nothing now of entering into a new one.</p><p>Crowley didn't know what to do. He thought back to the simpler days, with the Arrangement in full swing, but before Crowley received that wretched basket from Hastur in a dark cemetery. There was restraint, though, especially after the holy water. Right. Aziraphale had never been the same since giving him that wretched thermos, still tucked away in his safe for the dire days to come. The <em> wretched </em> Antichrist and the <em> wretched </em>holy water, both putting unbearable strain on their relationship, but neither of them fully being permitted to bring that up.</p><p>Because the truth was, before Crowley had brought up the idea of needing <em> insurance </em>, Aziraphale was a radiant, reckless, and beautiful bastard of an angel.</p><p>And for that, he had to go way back. Far before the ruins of a church, and before he'd asked whether the ducks at St. James's had ears.</p><p>He'd have to go back to the Bastille.</p><p>Aziraphale, his face brightened with the thrill of being rescued, and Crowley showing up in the knick of time to rescue him. The way artful curls spilled over his forehead, and the stretch of translucent stockings over his muscular legs - gorgeous, of course, beaming up with complete and unrestrained delight when he sees that Crowley has come to save him.</p><p>His cock strained in his denims, and Crowley figured there was no going about it now. If he couldn't have Aziraphale, what with the impending mess and doom of Armageddon and all, he could at least savour the Aziraphale of his fantasies.</p><p>The Aziraphale of his fantasies was delightfully coy. Always delighted to see Crowley. Always begging for more. It was a part of him that had always filled him with guilt. He knew his friend was, for more than one reason, untouchable. And even on the most ridiculously off-chance that he would be permitted to have him like that, Aziraphale deserved to be treated far better than what his darkest dreams could conceive.</p><p>And Crowley would give him anything. Anything that he asked.</p><p>But the Aziraphale of his fantasies was a wholly separate entity from his friend. And so he shoved his hand inside his tight jeans and pulled out his cock, moaning as he thought of the chains around Aziraphale's wrists, lazily tugging at his length in the heat of frustration and arousal.</p><p>Crowley could nearly piece together the entire vision. Aziraphale in the Bastille, his breeches pooled around his ankles as Crowley fucked him from behind whilst the angel scrabbled to find any leverage he could get at on the stone wall, moaning and begging for him to go harder, deeper, looking very pretty while on the throes of his pleasure -</p><p>Then came the knocks on the door, tearing him harshly away from his fantasy.</p><p>
  <em> "Crowley."  </em>
</p><p>Aziraphale. The <em> real </em>Aziraphale's voice called out from across the flat, and Crowley let out an anguished groan.</p><p>
  <em> "Crowley, I think we need to talk." </em>
</p><p>But the demon was in no mood for any of that. The angel may well be ready to talk things out with him, but <em> this </em> Aziraphale didn't know the devastating words he'd said to Crowley. How he was ready to break everything off. Crowley gave his dick another hard tug, gasping. What if <em> this </em>Aziraphale was here to break it off with him again? He didn't know if he could take it a second time. It's too much, and he was still achingly hard and far too aroused.</p><p>With his gaze trailed up towards the high ceiling of his bedroom, Crowley snapped his fingers, and the knocking on the door stopped.</p><p>Blissful silence once again. Crowley held the base of his member, testing the stillness of his surroundings.</p><p>Time had stopped. It was alright to proceed.</p><p>Just as he was about to stroke himself again, he felt the tug on his corporation, the dragging sense of reality warping all around him. The entire space of the Earth condensed into a single point, and he could see it retreating before his very eyes and fading into a very dark void.</p><p>And just as soon as it all vanished, everything once again reappeared.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>It only took a moment more for him to realise that not only was he in a different place, he was also in a different time.</p><p>
  <em> Paris. 1793. </em>
</p><p>The surroundings were vaguely familiar, but he'd forgotten enough of the details that to see it all again in its entirety was a thoroughly disorienting experience. </p><p>He was inside a run-down building, also vaguely familiar. An echo of a task he'd been given a long long time ago. He was alone in this room, luckily.</p><p>He tucked his stiff member back into his jeans.</p><p>It was one thing to unintentionally reverse time for two minutes, and a whole other thing to go back <em> two hundred years. </em></p><p><em> Shit. </em>His former self was in this building somewhere, fomenting useless mischief. He had to be careful not to run into him.</p><p>He tried to get his brain to work. If thinking of a chained up Aziraphale was what caused all this, then it should be easy enough to try to get back to present day. He'd never time traveled before (aside from that brief two minutes after that argument), but he'd seen enough sci-fi to know that one couldn't mess with what had already taken place, lest he face a host of consequences.</p><p>He poised his fingers to snap again, and then remembered that present day him had an angry angel awaiting him, ready to end six thousand years of friendship all over again.</p><p>And Crowley didn't know if he was ready to face all that.</p><p>He thought of Aziraphale in <em> this </em> timeline. He could feel it, the exact date and time of the ground he stood on. Aziraphale was probably on his way all over from bloody London, dressed in the most damnable clothing, ready to risk it all for bleeding <em> crepes. </em></p><p>A fond chuckle escaped him. Luckily for that angel, his former self had been in the area. He'll turn out fine.</p><p>Oh, but the very idea of getting to see him again. Even if only for a moment. To see that fearless, ridiculous, beautiful angel, and that delighted expression on his face when he sees Crowley. </p><p>To have Aziraphale's eyes rake over him once again, from head to toe, unabashedly checking him out.</p><p>That moment was the only time he'd allowed himself to entertain the idea of Aziraphale finding him desirable as well. And it fueled his fantasies for literal centuries after.</p><p>How would it be like to relive that moment? Maybe he could go back to the prison cell, conceal himself somehow, and watch the scene unfold from a safely hidden place. Not cause any major changes or paradoxes for their future selves, and damn them to a fate that was even more fucked up than the one that already awaited them.</p><p>But somehow that wasn't enough, and Crowley began to entertain the idea of being the one to rescue Aziraphale <em> again. </em></p><p>And maybe it was dangerous and completely ridiculous, but it can't be much more ridiculous than his Alpha Centauri plan, which he'd already laid out to Aziraphale (the present day one), just a moment ago.</p><p>And really, it can't get any more convoluted than this.</p><p>It would be fine, surely. Aziraphale at this moment hadn't seen Crowley in close to forty years. He had no idea what Crowley looked like. He could pop into the cell himself, do exactly as he did two hundred years ago, have crepes with him and part ways, with the angel being none the wiser.</p><p>He could revel in the angel's innocent smiles. His unrestrained playfulness. And then.</p><p>And then he'd go back, to <em> his </em> Aziraphale. The one who was going to break his heart all over again.</p><p>It was easy enough to arrange a distraction for his former self. His ability to sense the angel only worked within a certain range, and only if he concentrated on it hard enough. He'd only needed to orchestrate some dumb source of low-grade mischief all the way on the other side of the city before Aziraphale could arrive in Paris, and past Crowley was out of the picture.</p><p>Was it weird to feel sorry for his former self? <em> This </em> Crowley wouldn't get to live that knight and shining armour moment that he did. It was cruel, but Crowley's dejected heart couldn't find it in himself to retreat from the plan once he'd formed it.</p><p>Time passed as it would, and then he was in the cells of the Bastille once again.</p><p>He'd gotten a lot of weird looks on the way. To these people, his freely flowing hair, tied up in a sloppy half-bun probably looked unkempt and lazy, along with the wrinkles of his full length denims. But these people were also under the impression that taking baths gave diseases, so he didn't give a fuck what they thought. His long black coat, tailored to perfectly fit his slender frame, could probably pass off as a redingote - albeit a plain and unembellished one. He remembered his actual look from this time period fondly. Experimental in a way that would set the standards of European menswear for the decades to follow.</p><p>The Crowley of<em> this </em>timeline still had a lot to look forward to.</p><p>The Crowley from the twenty-first century had only the memories of a radiantly beaming angel in chains to cling to.</p><p>He strutted his way through familiar stone walls, and then he heard it...</p><p>
  <em> "Dreadful mistake, discorporating me! Ugh. It'll be a complete nightmare." </em>
</p><p>The voice rang loud and clear across the bare halls. Crowley's breathing stuttered in anticipation. The snark. The cheekiness of that tone. The knowledge of what already awaited him. Arousal flared from deep within his gut, and he walked on.</p><p>He could see the angel's back turned towards him now, and he needed another moment to steel himself. This was real. His fantasy, standing before him, in that long tan coat tapered at the waist and flaring out, swishing as he moved around. His calves barely concealed by thin stockings, and those infuriatingly flashy satin shoes.</p><p>This angel was a right bastard, alright.</p><p>He snapped his fingers, and time once again was frozen. The executioner stood off to one corner, his back turned to the entire scene. </p><p>How had Crowley positioned himself again?</p><p>There was a moment of panic where he struggled to remember, and then he spotted the ledge by the metal bars, and positioned himself on top of it, his legs sprawled out before him.</p><p>The head of bouncy white curls shook in frustration. "Animals!"</p><p>He mustered up all the confidence in his tone.</p><p>"Animals don't kill each other with clever machines, angel. Only humans do that."</p><p>Aziraphale tensed, then sagged down instantly into a more relaxed position.</p><p>"<em>Crowley.</em>"</p><p>His cock twitched properly in his jeans. The many long nights he'd spent dreaming about that precise way Aziraphale uttered his name. It was all his hopes realised, and he was grateful that his black coat obscured the bulge in his pants.</p><p>Aziraphale whipped around and took one good look at him.</p><p>Crowley braced himself - and there it was. The coy look, running over him from head to toe. A small part of him was relieved that this Aziraphale still found this particular look just as enticing as his former self's outfit.</p><p>Aziraphale gasped. "<em>Oh.</em>"</p><p>Crowley knew his part well from here. He'd spent far too many times reliving it in his dreams. He could easily recite his lines like an understudy who'd been called to fill in for another actor in a play.</p><p>"What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille? I thought you were opening a bookshop.”</p><p>But instead of the response he'd expected, Aziraphale was completely silent. His wide eyes batting wildly, brows ever so slightly drawn as though he was trying to figure out a puzzle before him.</p><p>"You're not..." Aziraphale was still looking at him, and he resisted the urge to squirm under that intense scrutiny. The angel also kept looking at his legs. "You're not my Crowley."</p><p>Despite the implications, he failed to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine at <em> 'my Crowley'. </em></p><p>He played it cool. "Dunno what you mean. Just figured I'd see. Wonder what Paris is up to these days? All the beheading and all. Nasty business, that is. Hope it doesn't drag on for too long. Lo and behold, then, I found an angel about to be discorporated over crepes. Have anything to say for yourself?"</p><p>Aziraphale's smile dropped instantly. "How did you know I was here for crepes?"</p><p><em> Shit. </em> Crowley made a string of incomprehensible noises. If he ended up punching a paradox hole into the fabric of spacetime, it would be a pleasure to know it was over incriminating bloody <em> crepes. </em></p><p>"Your breeches. That textile isn't from this time. I should know, I've been around for all of it, <em>thus far</em>." He looked back onto Crowley's face, taking a step closer, the chains around his wrists rattling. "You're from the future."</p><p>Crowley stood up. There was still a chance he could salvage this, maybe distract the angel with thoughts of dessert. Was it too late to call on his former self to fix all this? Then maybe he could get the fuck out of here.</p><p>"I don't. Aziraphale, that's ridiculous. I can't travel through time."</p><p>"Well, with your established ability to <em> stop </em> time, I don't see any reason why you would not be able to reverse it."</p><p>Trust Aziraphale to be clever enough to figure something out about Crowley an entire <em> two centuries </em>before he himself did.</p><p>"Er..."</p><p>"What I am trying to figure out is what time exactly did you come from, and what you are doing <em> here? </em>You could potentially alter things in your own timeline, surely you realise that."</p><p>Crowley's entire confidence faltered. He ran his fingers through his long hair, sighing. "I might've accidentally sent myself back. I swear, I didn't mean to. And believe me, I'm trying not to create any paradoxes! I'm well aware of that."</p><p>Aziraphale shot him a deadpan look, as though to say <em> 'Really?' </em></p><p>And even this Aziraphale had the ability to stun him to silence.</p><p>"How far back?"</p><p>"A little over two hundred years?”</p><p>"<em>Good lord.</em>" Aziraphale shook his head in disapproval. "Crowley, you must realise how dangerous it is to travel this far back."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. Spare me the lecture. Get plenty enough of that from the you in <em> my </em> timeline."</p><p>Aziraphale ducked his chin, blushing lightly as a small smile graced his plump lips. "You and I are... we are still together, then?"</p><p>His heart clenched at the transparent hope in his tone. This Aziraphale was far too innocent. Unguarded. A surge of protectiveness welled up inside him, wanting to shield that radiance somehow.</p><p>"In a sense."</p><p>"Then I trust we are still on good terms?"</p><p>Crowley swallowed. "Sort of. I can't tell you about the particulars, but in my timeline, we've sort of received the News."</p><p>"The News?"</p><p>Crowley nodded. Aziraphale instantly understood.</p><p>"We're working together to stop it from happening."</p><p>Aziraphale knew better than to ask about how <em> that </em> was going to go. That sort of detail really was best constrained to its proper timeline. Instead, what he asked was, "Then what on earth are you doing here? You should be... well, you should be with <em> me</em>."</p><p>Crowley shifted on his slithery feet, pacing about because he needed an excuse to work off his anxious energy. "I've sort of mucked things up a bit. We had a fight."</p><p>"Oh. Well you know I can never stay angry with you for too long."</p><p>Crowley stopped pacing. He looked back at the angel. The light in his eyes and the softness in his gaze, given to him freely, with no attempt to conceal any part of it.</p><p>He couldn't help but choke out a sob. "Satan, I missed you looking at me like that."</p><p>Aziraphale's expression crumbled. "Oh, my dear."</p><p>Crowley stepped close to him, and he had to wonder whether he'd fallen asleep somehow, and this Aziraphale before him was still the Aziraphale of his fantasies. But from this new distance, he could see the grooves around the corners of the angel's eyes, and each individual strand of his soft white hair. Without thinking, he brought up a hand and cupped Aziraphale's cheek.</p><p>Aziraphale made no protest. Only stood very still as Crowley's hand slid down to the strip of fabric around his neck, watched the demon carefully without breaking his gaze.</p><p>"Sorry, I just..." Crowley's voice was trembling and he attempted to pull himself back together. "I really missed you."</p><p>"But I'm still with you. You told me so yourself."</p><p>"It's... it's different." Crowley couldn't find it in himself to say anything more than that. "Just different."</p><p>"I can't imagine why. I can't see any reason why I'd want to leave you."</p><p>Crowley's chest shriveled up just a bit more. This angel was so, <em> so </em> young. He only knew the needling Crowley who would do small miracles for him. Who would take him out for lunch and enjoy the little pleasures of the world with him. He didn't know yet the demon who bravely asked him for holy water. Nor the demon who left his heart raw and exposed over the ruins of a blown up church and a case full of prophecy books. And definitely not the demon who had shown, time and time again, the insane lengths he would go to just to keep Aziraphale with him, only to be rejected just as many times.</p><p>This angel would not yet contemplate the idea of ever leaving Crowley.</p><p>Aziraphale leaned into his hand, eyes fluttering and sighing deeply. "I'm sure whatever it is we've argued about can be rightly settled soon enough. Nothing a small bunch of pastries and a sweet kiss wouldn't fix."</p><p>"You misunderstand me," said Crowley hoarsely. "We aren't together like... like that."</p><p>"What?" Not even the disappointment in his tone was concealed. This Aziraphale was far too open. "But I don't understand. If the world is truly about to end, then what have you got to lose? Why haven't you swept me into your arms yet?"</p><p>Crowley growled, low and dangerous. His arms came around Aziraphale's waist, the chains digging into their fronts almost painfully.</p><p>The angel looked a bit shocked, but didn't complain. He made no move to tug himself free. </p><p>"Because you wouldn't <em> let </em> me." Crowley couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone. "Because everyday I get to see you. Not once every fifty years or so. I get to see you <em> everyday </em>and you invite me into your place and we drink a lot of wine and talk about a lot of things and we practically raised a kid together and you still. Wouldn't. Let. Me."</p><p>Confusion was evident in his blue-green eyes. "I'm sorry."</p><p>Somehow, that gave Crowley some consolation. "Nah, I. I get why you have to. It sucks and I complain about it a lot, but I get it. You've always been the clever one between us both."</p><p>"Would it help if I let you?"</p><p>"No, Aziraphale, I told you. The you from my timeline would never - "</p><p>"I'm not talking about me from the future. I'm talking about me <em> now.</em>"</p><p>Crowley tensed, his arms going tight around Aziraphale. He pulled back to get a good look at his face.</p><p>"You're kidding."</p><p>In response, Aziraphale pressed the line of his body into Crowley, his cheeks tinged pink as he brought his hands down and the chains rattled by his sides.</p><p>"You said you missed me like this. That must mean that in your memories, something happened between us here that you keep going back to." Aziraphale shot him one of those coy looks once again that had Crowley's stomach quivering. "What can I do for you, then?"</p><p>"A-Aziraphale, <em> we - no. I - </em> nothing happened!" His face was heating up as well, but with Aziraphale still pressed up against him, he couldn't resist running his hand up and down the angel's back. "I showed up here, you told me about your predicament, I took off your chains, then we went for lunch. I swear, nothing more happened. It was perfectly innocent."</p><p>"Hm. Then I have to wonder what it is about this moment that you keep recalling."</p><p>Crowley looked down at his radiant face, and he couldn't help it. He was weak for Aziraphale, no matter which timeline he came from.</p><p>"Just you looking utterly gorgeous."</p><p>Aziraphale's lips stretched out into a beam. And this time, there was no mistaking the desire that flickered in his eyes.</p><p>"You’re looking marvelously well yourself."</p><p>Crowley blinked. "No, no. I looked way different from how I look now. I didn't exactly plan this out very well. I could've tried to blend in more."</p><p>The fingers of Aziraphale's hand walked up the planes of his chest, curling inside the lapels of his coat to pull out his silver chain necklace.</p><p>"Oh, how lovely," remarked Aziraphale with a hungry look. The metal from his necklace, along with the restraints on the angel's wrist, gleamed from the stream of light entering the room. "We match."</p><p>Crowley leaned down and claimed his mouth in a searing kiss. </p><p>Aziraphale, righteous hedonist that he was, moaned instantly into his mouth, pawing at Crowley's chest.</p><p>The kiss was heated. Urgent and desperate. Crowley could hardly tell which of them desired the other more. He pressed firm kisses on Aziraphale's lips, and Aziraphale licked his way into Crowley's mouth. Soon, there was barely any actual kissing. They were only gasping into each other's mouths, tongues meeting and sliding here and there as the sounds of the angel's soft sighs filled his ears.</p><p>"Crowley," Aziraphale tried to mumble, but with each attempt to pull back so he could speak, Crowley was there to chase his lips. Aziraphale giggled and pressed a palm firmly on his chest. "Dear, you need to know."</p><p>"Know what?" Crowley bumped his nose to his cheek, inhaling deeply.</p><p>"I know I can be difficult to deal with," Aziraphale said with sincerity. A constriction in his tone, and Crowley was jarred because for a moment, he almost sounded like <em>his</em> Aziraphale. "But please be patient with me. Please don't give up on me."</p><p>Crowley had already decided, long ago, that he never would.</p><p>"Mmm," Crowley kissed his ear, delighted in the shiver it elicited. "Can I kiss you again?"</p><p>"You can have me however you want."</p><p>Crowley pulled back to meet his eyes. "Angel, you don't know what you're asking."</p><p>"I do. Believe me, I <em> do</em>." Aziraphale sighed. He pressed a light kiss to Crowley's jaw. "Please just trust me on this. It will all be okay."</p><p>"What if I want you on that wall over there, begging for my cock?"</p><p>Scarlet coloured the angel's face. He nodded shyly. "I said however you want."</p><p>Crowley was perhaps ridiculous. Maybe a little dumb. Most likely incredibly selfish.</p><p>His hands came down to Aziraphale's backside. He squeezed both cheeks, drawing out a yelp from the angel.</p><p>Aziraphale threw back his head and swung it back down to land hard on Crowley's shoulder, gasping heavily.</p><p>"Crowley, <em> yes! </em>" He pressed his body against Crowley once again, grinding desperately on his thigh. </p><p>A part of him still couldn't believe what was happening, but <em> if </em> all this was real, Crowley knew they didn't have much time. He couldn't keep up this miracle for long. Already he could feel the faint tug of exhaustion at the tips of his limbs.</p><p>"Need to have you, angel," he gasped out, frantically attempting to take off Aziraphale's breeches. But damn, it's been over two hundred years and he couldn't remember how to properly unfasten them. Aziraphale was still in chains, and he maneuvered awkwardly to keep them away from Crowley.</p><p>With a frustrated groan, Crowley snapped his fingers, and Aziraphale was left in nothing but his long coat, stockings, and those shiny satin shoes.</p><p>Most of all, his hands were still in chains.</p><p>A thrilled flush covered Aziraphale's chest and stomach. Crowley followed it down to his crotch, and found the softness of a mound of light hair.</p><p>Crowley was completely stunned.</p><p>"I-I hope you don't mind," said Aziraphale self-consciously, squeezing his thighs together.</p><p>"I didn't know you liked to... keep this - "</p><p>"You must admit it's far more convenient to wear inside the breeches."</p><p>He had a point there. In fact, Crowley could recall several times he himself sported a vulva sometime around the following century.</p><p>Like this, Aziraphale looked utterly debauched. Like a present wrapped up and packaged solely for him. He leaned in to kiss him again, his fingers boldly slipping inside Aziraphale's folds, coating up in his slick.</p><p>Aziraphale let out a breathy moan, rocking on Crowley's hand. His clit moved over the length of Crowley's middle finger, curling back and forth and sending a wave of trembles through the angel’s frame. </p><p>"<em> Oh </em>." His eyes rolled into the back of his head, completely blissed out. "I've always - always wondered how your fingers would feel."</p><p>He backed Aziraphale onto a wall and the angel hooked a leg around his hip, shamelessly grinding on him, seeking out any sort of friction he could find. </p><p>Crowley had no idea he could get Aziraphale to be this desperate for his touch. He slipped his hand back into the angel's sex, twisting his clit between his fingers and prodding lightly at the entrance. </p><p>"You're so wet," Crowley said, more out of sheer awe than to make any sort of point. "I haven't even done anything to you yet."</p><p>"<em>Crowley,</em>" Aziraphale gasped as Crowley's finger slipped past his entrance, going straight up and curling forward. The sound Aziraphale made was downright obscene, his mouth hanging open as Crowley combed in to find that spot. Judging from Aziraphale's expression, he'd already brushed it. And he dug more firmly, pressing right into it as Aziraphale trembled and shook with frightening intensity. A flare of pride blossomed in his chest when Aziraphale began fucking himself on his fingers.</p><p>"<em>Crowley</em>," he moaned once again, his hands resting on the demon's shoulders. "In me, please. In me, <em> now</em>."</p><p>"I'm already in you," the demon teased, nipping at his lower lip as he inserted another finger inside the angel, hooking them both. "Aren't you being a little greedy here?"</p><p>Aziraphale shook his head. "Your - your - <em> ah! </em> Cock, please. I need you... fill me with your come."</p><p>"Whatever you want, my angel."</p><p>Crowley pulled out his fingers. Aziraphale whimpered at the loss, but watched him carefully as he popped open his jeans and freed his throbbing member from the restraints.</p><p>"Darling, you're so lovely."</p><p>The tenderness in his voice broke through the haziness of his lust. His hand came up to stroke Aziraphale's hair.</p><p>"You are everything to me, angel," he confessed. Aziraphale maintained his gaze, soft and beautiful. "Everything. And I mean it. You're all I ever want."</p><p>Because <em> his </em> Aziraphale may not stop to listen to any of that. Wouldn't even give him a chance to do so. Too risky, too dangerous. But <em> this </em>Aziraphale would. And somehow, that had to be enough.</p><p>He pushed his cock inside Aziraphale's heat, pinning his chained wrists to the wall beside his head as he drove in with increasing speed and force.</p><p>He took in all of Aziraphale's gasps and moans, each mumbled <em> 'Crowley' </em>that was drawn from his lips in the midst of his pleasure. Aziraphale let himself be taken, moaning louder each time Crowley drove into him harder.</p><p>"Faster, my dear," he begged. "I'm - I'm close."</p><p>Crowley picked up his pace, his hips snapping in a way that a human wouldn't be able to endure. He held nothing back, driven only by the needy pleasured sounds coming from the angel of his wildest dreams.</p><p>"Let go for me, angel."</p><p>Aziraphale fell apart, clenching all over his cock, but he didn't stop even then. Crowley kept thrusting into him, using his remaining strength to fuck Aziraphale into a second orgasm, before finally letting go himself, fulfilling the angel's request and filling him up with his seed.</p><p>They kissed lazily through their exhaustion, both knowing this couldn't last for much longer, but neither exactly ready for it to end.</p><p>They kissed until it could no longer be denied, and with a snap of Aziraphale's fingers, they were once again fully dressed, and the chains came off his wrists, clattering on the ground.</p><p>Crowley smirked. "Thought you were out of frivolous miracles?"</p><p>Aziraphale grinned back. "Hardly counts as a miracle." He stroked his hand in Crowley's hair, toying a little with the small bun at the back of his head and sighing. "You have to go. I need you out there."</p><p>"I know," replied Crowley. He took Aziraphale’s hand in his own and placed a lingering kiss on the back of his fingers. "Just scared, is all. I don't want you to leave me."</p><p>Aziraphale's eyes glistened with tears. "My dear, I hope you know that even if I do become crazy enough to do that, I will always find my way back to you."</p><p>He kissed the corner of Crowley's mouth. "Now get back there, and I think you'll find yourself miraculously forgiven, for whatever it is you've done."</p><p>For a few seconds, Crowley tried very hard to make the image stay, but it was already slipping away from him. Time traveling 200 years and staying there for a bit took a significant amount of power, and he knew he had to give in.</p><p>"Goodbye, angel."</p><p>Aziraphale smiled fondly at him. "Don't be silly, dear boy. You'll see me again in a bit."</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The ground shifted beneath his feet. The world spun around once again, this time with him as the axis. And when he opened his eyes, he was back in the familiar grey walls of his posh Mayfair flat.</p><p>And there was still someone knocking on his door.</p><p>Crowley swayed lightly on his feet, attempting to re-orient himself in his surroundings. He glanced down at his own bearings, pleased that Aziraphale<em> (the other one) </em> had been meticulous in setting him back to rights. He wiped his clammy hands <em> (and he tried very hard not to think about where those fingers had just been) </em> over his coat and walked over to open the door.</p><p>Aziraphale, <em> his </em> Aziraphale, stood in the foyer. A flicker of intense haziness clouded his eyes, and then, as though something clicked in his brain, he looked at Crowley - shocked, slightly confused - and blushed a <em> very </em> deep shade of red.</p><p>He'd altered Aziraphale's memories. He knew. They <em> both </em> knew what happened in the Bastille.</p><p>Crowley gulped. "I-I think we're both in need of alcohol. Extraordinary amounts of it."</p><p>Aziraphale nodded frantically. "I agree."</p><p>Neither of them needed to bring it up. There was no use, really, what with Armageddon right around the corner and all.</p><p>But even left unspoken, it was enough. Enough to tide Crowley over through the next few years. When Aziraphale pushed him away at the bandstand, when he found the bookshop up in flames, when he was nothing but a sobbing mess at a pub as the world was about to end and he was speaking to Aziraphale's disembodied voice, and when Aziraphale wore his body and walked into the depths of Hell itself - he had one thing that he could cling to.</p><p>Once upon a time, in a dark prison cell of the Bastille, Aziraphale promised that he would always find his way back to Crowley.</p><p>And at the end of it all, he <em> did</em>.</p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Would love some kudos and love in the comments so much!</p><p>I'm also on twitter! @angelsnuffbox</p></blockquote></div></div>
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